


the past ain't through with you

by akamine_chan



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-30
Updated: 2011-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-25 02:06:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akamine_chan/pseuds/akamine_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He is exhausted and after dinner Gerard waves off the invite to go and check out a new band.  Stumbling a little, he finds his way back to his hotel room, falls face-first onto the bed and is almost instantly asleep.  It has been that kind of week.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the past ain't through with you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Andeincascade (Ande)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ande/gifts), [Green](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green/gifts), [turps](https://archiveofourown.org/users/turps/gifts).



> Warning: Implied incest
> 
> Written for celtic_cookie's [Unofficial Pan-Fandom Musician RPF Jerk-Off Spectacular!](http://bulletproof-fic.livejournal.com/13536.html)
> 
> Prompt of _Drunk accidental phone sex._
> 
> Title from _Kill All Your Friends_ by My Chemical Romance
> 
> Lovely beta by Andeincascade. Dedicated to Ande, Green and Turps, three lovely ladies who've been kinda down lately.

He is exhausted and after dinner Gerard waves off the invite to go and check out a new band. Stumbling a little, he finds his way back to his hotel room, falls face-first onto the bed and is almost instantly asleep. It has been that kind of week.

The phone buzzes and Gerard fumbles for it blearily. He feels like he's just barely gotten to sleep and—his breath catches as he squints at the screen. _Mikey_.

"Mikey? What's wrong?"

The line hums, hollow and echoing. Gerard strains to hear, sitting up in the bed and _listens_ with his whole body. There's a muffled sound, almost like a gasp and Gerard's heart starts pounding. "Mikey?"

Gerard has always had a vivid imagination; it's been a blessing and a curse his whole life. Right now, all he can think about is Mikey kidnapped, Mikey mugged in an alley, Mikey in an accident, Mikey—

"Oh, fuck, fuck, Mikeyway, Christ—your hands, oh, faster—"

That voice. Gerard knows that voice, even though he's never heard it like this, rough and desperate and on the verge of begging...

"C'mon, dude," Mikey says. There's a subtle quality to his voice that makes Gerard think that Mikey's had a few drinks, just enough to loosen him up. "Pete, come for me."

And that is more than enough. It's obvious that nothing has happened to Mikey other than he's hooked up with Pete fucking Wentz and Mikey's stupid phone decided to overshare and call Gerard again.

"Mikey, you fucker, I was asleep," he says loudly, knowing that he won't be heard.

"Oh, God, Mikeyway, fuck—oh fuck, I can't—" Pete babbles.

"You can," Mikey says and there's this _noise_ ; it takes Gerard a second to identify that rough guttural groan as what Pete sounds like when he comes.

He starts to pull the phone away from his ear, because he really does not want to listen this, _really doesn't_ , when another sound catches his ear. It's familiar, too familiar. It's a sound that Gerard has heard so many times, in their bedroom when they were teenagers, in the early days of the band when they were touring on a shoestring budget and in a tiny van, in countless filthy motels across the country, in their bunks on their bus.

It's the little gasp-sigh that Mikey makes when he begins to jerk off, as he wraps his long fingers around his dick and starts to stroke.

Shaking his head, Gerard closes his eyes and tries not to picture Mikey's hands, clever and quick, touching himself.

"Christ, Mikeyway, so fucking hot watching you do that," Pete whispers unsteadily, and Gerard can't do anything but groan. _Of course_ Pete's a talker. He never, ever shuts up, so it shouldn't be a surprise.

He should really hang up the phone now. What Pete and Mikey do when they're alone is their business and listening is fucking creepy, never mind the fact that it's his little brother...

It's so fucked up.

Mikey's breath hitches and Gerard can hear the sound of flesh sliding against flesh and closes his eyes tight. There's a soft, wet moan, bitten off and Gerard shifts on the bed, uneasy and uncomfortable.

He pushes his bangs back from his sweaty forehead and drops his hand into his lap, brushing against his dick. He's hard and he didn't even realize it; he jerks his hand away in mortification. It's _wrong_ , on so many fucking levels.

"Fuck, Pete, so fucking—" Mikey slurs. "Missed you."

It's been years since that summer and Gerard knows that Mikey and Pete get together sometimes, sneaking away from their lives to try to recapture something they both desperately wanted but couldn't have.

Mikey sounds drunk now, on alcohol or sex, or maybe both. Gerard isn't sure. But he needs to hang up, this is such an intimate moment, he's seeing parts of Mikey he's not meant to see.

Gerard keeps the phone close to his ear and holds his breath, listening hard. He can hear Mikey's breathing, the tiniest bit of a moan lingering under each exhale. He hears Mikey swallow hard and then, the liquid sound of a kiss.

With the flat of his hand, he pushes down _hard_ on his cock, trying to drive away the heated arousal sliding through his blood. It's Mikey, for fuck's sake. He can feel his dick throb and he bites his lip in hopes of distracting himself, but the sounds Mikey's making, loud and unselfconscious, are driving him crazy.

"Mikeyway, so fucking beautiful, your hands—your hands are so amazing, I want them on me, touching me everywhere," Pete says and both Mikey and Gerard moan, almost in unison.

His hand presses down on his dick and he whimpers. He tells himself to take his hand away, to stop touching himself but he can't, he can't bring himself to stop because he's so turned on and so damn close.

Instead, he scrabbles to get his jeans open, fingers clumsy and frantic on the button and zipper. Mikey's panting in his ear and he can hear Pete urging him on and Gerard gasps up at the ceiling as he finally gets his hand on himself. He squeezes hard to keep from coming immediately, but the noises that Mikey's making push him right to the edge.

"Fuckin' close," Mikey says and Gerard shudders in an erotic consensus.

"C'mon, dude," and Gerard can't tell if Pete is talking to him or Mikey but it doesn't really matter anymore. He strokes his cock once, twice and on the third pull, he comes with a loud gasp. "Fuck," he grits out, arching his back as he pushes hard into his hand. It feels like he's coming forever and he keeps making these embarrassing little noises, because it feels so fucking intense that it hovers right at the edge of too much.

He hears Mikey cry out and it sends another surge of arousal through him, pinning him to the bed with the weight of his wants.

"Mikey—" he sighs. He _wants_...so much. Too much.

He pushes his head into his pillow and listens as Mikey's breathing slows down. Pete murmurs something indistinct in the background and Mikey replies. Gerard closes his eyes.

"Goodnight, Gee," Mikey whispers and Gerard freezes for a long moment, caught. The connection closes and the dial tone is suddenly loud in Gerard's ear.

"Goodnight," he whispers back.

-fin-


End file.
